Cathal's Appointment
by LadyKnightofCelestia
Summary: Cathal gets something she's always wanted-- and something she's never wanted. In honor of World Autism Awareness Day.


Cathal's Appointment

Summary: Cathal gets something she's always wanted-- and something she's never wanted. In honor of the day.

Disclaimer: Paramount and Gene Roddenberry owns Star Trek in its various manifestations. I am just having fun with my special interest!

Cathal was due to see Counselor Troi today. Very little trepidation occurred on her somewhat passive features. But inwardly, her heart beat fiercely as cortisol surged.

"Come on," her father, Captain Picard said to the girl. "She probably won't diagnose you with anything too bad," inwardly hoping that she would be just as normal as he thought she would be. He knew very well that his daughter was a highly intelligent, loving eccentric girl, but he didn't think anything was wrong with her.

"I've had experience with a mental health professional before," the girl said, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

"Did you receive a diagnosis?" her father asked.

"Yes," she said, referencing a time when she had not been Cathal Picard. "He diagnosed me with ADHD, and put me on a stimulant," she said, shuddering. "Lisdex-bleeping amphetamine."

Captain Picard recognized the drug type as being one of a sort that made a person insomniac at times, lowered the seizure threshold, and sometimes with extensive exposure, led to a psychosis. No child of his would suffer through that, not as long as she didn't appear to definitely need it!

"Well," he said, "Here we are."

She stopped, hugged his arm tightly, and said, "There's something you should know. He never wrote it down on my files, but he said I may be ... Autistic."

"What's that?" he asked, reciprocating her hug.

"There's something pervasively wrong with my communication, according to the psychological community. I express myself differently; you've seen my arm movements and the way I use my face to express myself. Um, I don't really make eye contact." He nodded, noting that he was the only one she made prolonged eye contact with. "I obsess," she said, a grin lighting up and smothering her lower face with smile wrinkles. "I, um, have issues with precision and timing." Captain Picard smiled bitterly, knowing that she sometimes had issues when she didn't figure out how the day was going to go correctly. He had seen some of her temper, but bless the child; she didn't want to show anybody. She had just silently stood behind the ones who had unbewittingly caused the issues, and behaved oddly to get the pressure off. She had explained to her dad, who had allowed her to go back to their quarters. He smiled softly; so many of the interesting quirks of hers had come from her brain difference. He wouldn't change her for the world.

"But most of all," said Cathal, "We are the masters of details! May I never desire a cure because of the goodness of my identity! Let's go in."

When the appointment started, Counselor Troi asked what Cathal thought of herself, as she had already had time to formulate her own opinion.

"Actually, I rather like my capacities right now," said the girl. "I haven't always. I've generally defined myself as loving my friends, and knowing them, intensely. It is similar with words, languages, and certain fantastic plotlines. I love my best friend," she stated, the latter remark referring to J, a little girl found with her who had been adopted by Dr. Crusher. "That's how I define myself. Also, I fight for my loved ones, strongly."

Counselor Troi nodded, before pushing a few buttons on her datapad.

"How do you like school, Cathal," the counselor asked.

"Easy peasy lemon squeezy," said Cathal, a faint hint of a grin appearing on her face. "I'm not expecting that easy a time with algebra, though."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm a linear thinker, and I haven't much good practice!" she stated.

"Oh. Do you remember ever taking any psychotropic drugs," Deanna asked, knowing the kid was quite intelligent.

Cathal made the decision to ask Commander Data precisely what "psychotropic," meant, but she already knew how Counselor Troi was using it.

"Lisdex-ruddy-amphetamine, Bupropion, and some other stuff that kinda made me drunk a lot easier on sleep deprivation."

Counselor Troi visibly shuddered. In this time, medicine had advanced enough that one could treat depression types and ADHD types without lowering the seizure threshold that low! Surely, her world's 21st Century had been rough on the girl!

"Okay," said the counselor. "You never see anything that anyone else doesn't?"

"I notice lots of stuff that other people don't see. Hallucinations? Only a long, long time ago with sleep deprivation."

"Tell me about your strong urges. Anything that you must do, perhaps repeatedly?"

"I do fixate a good bit, but no, Ma'am. Eh, not usually. Only when I'm being extremely emotional, on the last bit. I wiggle my fingers in front of my eyes when I'm particularly delighted; when I do my forearms in an ovular shape in front of me, that means I'm liking something really well; when I do this, it indicates..." and so she continued. She taught Counselor Troi how to read her body language; as though the half betazoid couldn't already read her emotions...

Counselor Troi finished examining the girl.

"You're an intelligent young lady; tell me, do you know what an Autism Spectrum Disorder is?"

"Quite so. People on the Autism Spectrum range in severity from being able to ask their mom for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and if she's crying, and mutely staring at peoples' feet, to being able, at age 40, flying over Rome for the first time and drawing it in near perfect detail, but speaking like a child, to being able to recite pi to the 22k something decimal point, and being able to tutor kids in maths and languages, and being able to found Microsoft. Their traits include nonverbal communication differences, best friend is generally out of age group type differences, which is true of me, lack of imagination, which is most certainly not true of me, issues with timing, which, yes, I have had, and the extremely great power of the special interest! Yes, that I have known." she said, grinning and rocking back and forth in delight at the last.

"I believe you may have a very rare brain disorder on the spectrum called PDDNOS."

"Oh? So I shouldn't want it, because you said "have?""

Counselor Troi was dumbfounded. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Using the term "have," was occasionally tantamount to wishing a cure on someone back in the twenty first century. You wouldn't like me to say that you have half blood Betazoidism, do you?"

"Certainly not," said Counselor Troi, amazed once again.

"I apologize for wishing a cure on someone who quite apparently loves her brain," said Counselor Troi, smiling. "I'll just put it down in your file..."

Counselor Troi was totally interrupted by Cathal shouting her joy, and flapping her arms as an expression.

"Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt."

"That's alright. Okay, any questions?"

"Yeah. What do you mean, PDDNOS is very very rare?" Cathal asked very worriedly.

"Well, you see...." Counselor Troi said slowly and carefully, as though her news was hard to bring." "They finished developing a genetic test for Autism. Autism rates of any sort are now.... one out of a thousand."

Cathal started rocking back and forth fiercely, covering her eyes before howling in a low loud pitch for a long minute or two. When she came out of it, she found herself in her father's arms.

"Child," he began. "I love you. You and your brain are a gift and a blessing to me. It is a shame that my fellow parents have no clue what they're missing out on, in children like yourself."

Ten tears slowly trickled down. "I love you, Papa. Thanks a whole lot."


End file.
